This forward is entitled "Lucky":

Mary and her husband Jim had a dog, Lucky. Lucky was a real character. [Like Fatty Arbuckle! In dog form!] Whenever Mary and Jim had company come for a weekend visit they would warn their friends to not leave their luggage open because Lucky would help himself to whatever struck his fancy. [He was particularly keen on the yummy pink silicone wares from the "video store."] Inevitably, someone would forget and something would come up missing. Mary or Jim would go to Lucky's toy box in the basement and there the treasure would be, amid all of Lucky's favorite toys. Lucky always stashed his finds in his toy box and he was very particular that his toys stay in the box. [Lucky had a lot of human traits. He could even talk! In fact, he often told Jim how to cleanse the earth of filthy, filthy hookers, who Jim would bring back to keep in the basement, right next to the toy box.]

It happened that Mary found out she had breast cancer. [She "found out" she got breast cancer because she didn't forward emails enough.] Something told her she was going to die of this disease, she was just sure it was fatal. [Thank you, WebMD!] She scheduled the double mastectomy, fear riding her shoulders [/breasts]. The night before she was to go to the hospital she cuddled with Lucky. A thought struck her...what would happen to Lucky? Although the three-year-old dog liked Jim, he was Mary's dog through and through. If I die, Lucky will be abandoned, Mary thought. [I'm going to have to shoot him. And Jim. And bury them in the basement with the hookers.] He won't understand that I didn't want to leave him. The thought made her sadder than thinking of her own death. The double mastectomy was harder on Mary than her doctors had anticipated and Mary was hospitalized for over two weeks.

Finally the day came for Mary to leave the hospital. When she arrived home, Mary was so exhausted she couldn't even make it up the steps to her bedroom. Jim made his wife comfortable on the couch [in the harness] and left her to nap. [Then he went down to the basement to work on his ladysuit.]

Lucky stood watching Mary but he didn't come to her when she called. It made Mary sad but sleep soon overcame her and she dozed. When Mary woke for a second she couldn't understand what was wrong. She couldn't move her head and her body felt heavy and hot. [Don't eat the brown acid.] But panic soon gave way to laughter when Mary realized the problem. She was covered, literally blanketed, with every treasure Lucky owned! [Two giant healing wounds lovingly contaminated with slobbery, spit-covered toys. And look! I was wondering where my Rabbit went!]

While she had slept, the sorrowing [?] dog had made trip after trip to the basement bringing his beloved mistress all his favorite things in life. He had covered her with his love. [Mary began composing a letter in her head: "Dear Penthouse Forum, I never thought it would happen to me..."]

Mary forgot about dying. Instead she and Lucky began living again, walking further and further together every night [and sending photos to BarnyardBitches.com]. It's been 12 years now and Mary is still cancer-free. Lucky? He still steals treasures and stashes them in his toy box but Mary remains his greatest treasure. [And Jim? He spends his time in the basement, building scultptures out of bones.]

[What could this all mean? ::drumroll::]

Live everyday to the fullest. Remember it is a blessing from God. The people [or anthropomorphic dogs, as the case may be] who make a difference in your life are not the ones with the most credentials, the most money, or the most awards. They are the ones that care.

[NOW FORWARD THIS TO 50 OF YOUR CLOSEST FRIENDS OR YOU'LL GET CANCER AND FUCKED BY DOGS.]